


Darlin'

by starwarsbard



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Crosshair is a jerk with soft spots, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Language, a lil sauce but that's Crosshair for ya, some kisses, some violence, we get shot lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:01:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28003551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starwarsbard/pseuds/starwarsbard
Summary: Nothing could go wrong with your first in field outing with the infamous Clone Force 99, right? Welp looks like we've been shot, Crosshair's gotta deal with us now.
Relationships: Clone Force 99 | Bad Batch & Reader, Clone Force 99 | Bad Batch/Reader, Crosshair (Star Wars: The Bad Batch) & Reader, Crosshair (Star Wars: The Bad Batch)/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 86





	Darlin'

**Author's Note:**

> Oh Lordy let’s go

You hadn’t thought twice about jumping in front of the blaster bolt, but your mind hadn’t quite caught up to think about the consequences of doing such. 

Crosshair made it easy for you to understand the weight of impulsive decision now. He had killed everyone in the room the moment you had been shot, a mere couple of seconds before he had knelt down to scold you. 

“You  _ idiot _ ,” he snarled it at you while almost harshly trying to stop the bleeding, “Stop moving,  _ please.” _

His seething voice faltered at the end, slipping into something softer as you whimpered. The pressure used to stop the flow of crimson never relenting, even at your pitiful cries. You couldn’t help but squirm as a fiery pain shot through you at the constant press of the sniper’s hands. A blaster shot shouldn’t have made you bleed this  _ much _ . It felt abnormal and terrifying beyond belief and you wished you had more courage to face it, instead only being able to grip at his bicep and whimper. Even with the full armor, you knew him well enough to tell the worry in his movements, slightly more sluggish than usual. 

“Hunter, they’re down and our positions compromised,” his voice fell back into mission mode, the comline in your earpiece suddenly going crazy with all three batchers responding with reasonably panicked questions. You couldn’t reach up and respond as you wished. You could barely move at all, especially with a Crosshair leaning what seemed like all his weight onto your wound. You wanted so badly to start an apology to the Bad Batch, but you just couldn’t. This mission they needed you, and you had gone and messed it up. You couldn’t wait for the debriefing where Cross told everyone that you had ever so stupidly taken a shot for him. 

“Fall back,” Hunter rang through loud and clear, but it sounded muffled in your ears. Tech and Wrecker agreed quickly and all of them worked a plan to rendezvous back at the Marauder as fast as possible. Tech gave Crosshair some guidance through watching a film feed from the snipers helmet. You whined through it all, pushing weakly at him to get off you because it hurt too much. 

“Cross…” 

You silently begged him to let up on the pressure just for a moment. 

“Darlin’ keep breathing for me,” he huffed out a ragged breath, still working with the limited medical supplies he had and his brother’s advice, “Just till I can get you to Tech.”

You groaned as he administered another stim, crossing the line into giving you a medicated high. It filled your bloodstream quickly, barely numbing the pain, and slowing the bleeding just enough for him to get you back to the ship. Crosshair then scooped you up, his rifle balanced beneath your legs so he could still shoot in front of the two of you. 

“Hold tight _ ,”  _ he grumbled it angrily, running as gently as he could to not jostle you. Your hands held onto the open wound in a panic as the bleeding started to pick up again. You gasped and let out a cry muffled into his shoulder. 

“C-Cross… it  _ hurts,” _ you sounded so pitiful. 

“I  _ know _ ,” that time it came out mean, biting as he continued to haphazardly shoot his way out of the compound, he grunted as a piece of metal flew towards the both of you, him turning to take the hit. It bounced off the plastoid with no obvious damage. You weren’t sure when you had started crying, but it seemed to be enough to soften him up just a little. 

“ _ Kriff...  _ I know, just a bit longer.”

The rest of the Batch rounded the corner in succession, all of you finally turning into the hangar where the Havoc sat encrypted from the separatist base you had infiltrated for intel. 

The second the ramp lowered, Wrecker had already bound to the pilot's seat, taking off and getting the ship to lightspeed in record time. In the meantime, Crosshair laid you back on a medic table Tech extended while Hunter helped in the cockpit. 

“Crosshairs… mad at me,” you were delirious, shaking, and the man in question stood right next to the bed, but it slipped out of your lips regardless. Tech seemed to take no mind of your almost incoherent babbling, cutting away at your shirt immediately. Before you could even think to be embarrassed about showing more skin than you would like, Tech had poured some sort of tonic on the wound that burned worse than the initial shot. It made you scream and thrash, but both of them seemed to expect it, holding you down so you didn’t damage yourself more. 

“You have to stay still for Tech,” Crosshair’s no nonsense tone did nothing to stop the tears that had been flowing for a significant amount of time now. You kept looking down at where Tech now prepared on closing the wound, the ship's cauterizer sparking to life, causing you to jump and sob. Inability to get you to stop crying must have been the last straw for Crosshair. 

“Damnit.”

He ripped off bloodied gloves and reached up to lift his helmet, tossing it to the floor with a clatter so that you could see him. Panic filled his expression in a way you had never seen. He barely lifted your top half in his arms, so as not to stop Tech’s meticulous work. The sniper blocked your view of the goings on your stomach area, sliding a hand around your chin to make sure you kept your eyes up and on him. 

The scrutinizing gaze was almost as intense as the first spark that seared your flesh together. Your hands immediately grabbed Crosshair as tightly as possible. The shocks kept coming and so did the pain. You clenched your jaw and kept crying, still babbling delirious things in between exclamations of pain. 

“Sorry Cross… won’t do it… again…  _ promise _ . Please don’t be… mad at me.”

You expected him to snap, to scold you once more, but instead his touch turned soft. The hand on your jaw slid up to your cheeks, wiping away the tears while he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. The gesture would not go unseen by his brothers, this you knew, but he kept his lips on your brow while he whispered to you. 

“ _ Why  _ darlin’? That shot was meant for  _ me. I’m  _ supposed to take the gunfire, not  _ you _ .”

You couldn’t come up with a good enough reason. Nothing that would soothe him anyways. You tried apologizing again. 

“Sor-  _ kriff… sorry.” _

He huffed once more into your hairline. 

“Don’t apologize again,” this was the first command that rolled off his tongue gently,  _ sweetly  _ even. The incessant burning of your skin had finally stopped and you felt the soothing touch of cool bacta over the irritated skin. He pressed another kiss to your brow, and that mixed with Tech’s now soothing touches down below, you drifted off in Crosshair’s arms. 

It felt like a minute really, but the now dark interior of the Havoc told you it must have been much longer. The ship felt dormant beneath you, obviously landed somewhere safe enough for all of you to sleep. You felt wrappings compressing your wound, comfortably tight around your midsection. A shirt much larger than your frame draped across your shoulders and massive size told you it must have been one of Wrecker’s civvy shirts. Familiar silhouettes of Hunter, Wrecker, and Tech all laid out on the floor, each of them sending soft snores into the air. You strained your eyes but Crosshair was nowhere to be found, and you sat up to see if he was just out of your line of sight. 

“You awake?”

His voice rang out next to you, and you turned rather quickly, a groan immediately leaving your lips. Crosshair stood from the chair he had been perched on, pushing you to lay back down with a steady hand. He rolled his toothpick from one side of his teeth to the other as he reached for a glass next to you. 

“Here,” he raised it to your lips and you gulped the water down greedily, your hand resting on top of his in a natural movement for steadiness. Once you had finished, he set it back down for you along with his signature toothpick, keeping his attention on your face. 

“You’re not gonna take a shot for me again, okay?”

Crosshair’s word was law at this point, offering no room for disagreement. You nodded, far too tired to combat with him about how you might have saved his life. Your agreement didn’t seem to be enough to smooth him down though as he grabbed at your chin like he had before to keep you focused on something other than the cauterizer. 

“Say it.”

You swallowed, your mouth already dry with the proximity. 

“I- I won’t jump a blaster for you again,”

“Good girl,” he let your jaw go only after he pressed another kiss high onto your cheekbone. A blush bloomed on your cheeks as his mouth trailed down a line of kisses to right below your ear. 

“Had I lost you, I don’t know what I would have done,” his voice faltered, and he masked it with one more searing kiss to your pulse point. 

He finally leaned back in his chair, squeezing your hand in a comforting gesture. 

“Go to sleep, I’ll be here.”

With that final order, you easily slipped back into your dreams, lulled by the soft snores of your teammates and the security of Crosshair watching over you. 

**Author's Note:**

> OOP I LOVE ONE ANGRY TOOTHPICK MAN


End file.
